


I Think About You Though (Everywhere I Go)

by AndreaLyn



Series: No Love [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22077352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: Now that they're engaged, it's time for Alex to see the universe and the planet that Michael came from. Unfortunately, they've been a little slow to tell other planets that Michael's abdicated and it's up to Michael and Alex to go on a royal colony tour.What could go wrong? (Really, what could go right?)
Relationships: Max Evans/Liz Ortecho, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: No Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589170
Comments: 37
Kudos: 137





	I Think About You Though (Everywhere I Go)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Nix for the lookover!

It’s funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same. 

He’d emerged from his stasis pod a week outside of Antar. He should have let Alex sleep, but his greedy need for Alex to be awake and to see this part of the universe for the first time meant that moments later, Alex was awake too. Michael had spent the week loving to watch Alex’s awe and wonder at the galaxy, which tended to roll into grateful make out sessions (something he’s not upset about). 

Then, their long journey came to an end.

“Welcome to Antar,” Michael murmurs against Alex’s neck, brushing a soft kiss to the warm skin after they’re given the all-clear from their landing. 

He goes straight into the grand tour, but here’s where things remain the same. No less than two hours after they arrive, Max summons Michael and Alex to his study. Given that as soon as they show up, they’re greeted by Max’s apologetic look, Michael knows this isn’t going to be good.

“There’s some royal business that needs tending to.”

“No,” Michael says flatly. 

“Michael,” Max protests, “you don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“I’ve seen that face before,” Michael argues, and keeps a hand on Alex’s back. He’s still banking on being able to whisk him away to show him the library, then the concert hall, and maybe a few of his inventions in practice. From the wondrous look on Alex’s face, he’s not paying attention to this little family squabbling, because he’s fascinated with the pink tinge to the atmosphere out the window. “The last time, you made me dedicate a new cross-breed at the zoo because you were busy and the time before that, I had to go to that raw food restaurant.”

From the guilty look on Max’s face, there’s definitely some kind of demand coming.

“It’s the colony tour,” Max says apologetically. “Your Dad was supposed to do it, but since you came in his stead, the advisors think that it’s worth the risk to send you and Alex out there.”

“Wait. What?” Oh, look, that got Alex’s attention. “Why do I have to go?”

“Because our PR people might have leaked the fact that one of Antar’s princes is engaged to someone from another planet. It plays really well for the colonies that the royal family isn’t keeping their marriages within Antar,” Max says.

“They leaked my engagement,” Michael says, trying to keep his disbelief from sounding like pure rage, but it’s close. “And yet, they somehow forgot to leak the part where I’m _not a prince_ anymore?” he demands, feeling Alex’s hand on his shoulder, rubbing in circles. 

He’s not mad about people knowing about the engagement. He is, of course, pissed as fuck about this thing where Max wants royal favors from him.

“It’s no big deal. You’ve done this a dozen times. You show up, you let them shower you with gifts, and then you move on to the next planet.”

“How many planets are we talking about?”

Max clears his throat and mumbles something under his breath.

Michael narrows his eyes at him, because, “Sorry, was that _four_?”

“Isobel managed to hit a bunch of them recently, but the four furthest colony planets are…well, they could use visiting,” Max admits. “I’d take Liz, but we’re both occupied here with a lot of her experiments and I’m not engaged to her.”

He says that with such a disappointed look on his face that Michael has to wonder if he’s aiming to change that soon.

Alex clears his throat and when Michael’s gaze slides to him, he knows he’s doomed. There’s this hopeful look that makes Michael remember that although he’s bored with the royal circuit, it’s not something that most normal people have ever done. He feels his heart twist up in his chest, warmth assaulting him for the sweet smile on Alex’s face, not to mention the casual shrug like he’s trying not to make a big deal of what he’s about to say. 

“It’d be nice to see more of the universe,” he admits, “and I mean, is it so bad if they’re going to wine and dine us?”

Michael lets out the breath he’s been holding in, aware that there’s no way he can deny Alex. Still, he feels like he also has to make sure Alex _understands_ what they’re walking into. If it were as simple as showing up and accepting gifts, then Michael wouldn’t balk at it (and hell, he might still be a prince), but something always goes wrong. 

“Remember you said that,” Michael warns.

“I will, _my lord_ ,” Alex responds with a heated look that reminds Michael that they’ve been in stasis for a very long time and there were always too many people on the ship for them to do anything in the week they’d been awake. 

Breathing a little heavier, Michael doesn’t take his eyes off Alex. “Max,” he says, offering fair warning. “You’re gonna need to get the hell out of here soon if you don’t want to see something that could scar you for life.” 

Max heads off, muttering something about not wanting to get caught in the middle of weird sex games, but it’s been a long few months and Michael has been planning to christen pretty much every single surface on Antar he can by having sex on it.

They barely make it to Michael’s childhood bedroom and that’s where they start with the bed. It’s faster than usual. Being in stasis always does strange things to you, but Michael’s shocked to discover a new side effect – apparently he’s a quick touch and Alex is even faster to go off, which means that within minutes, they’ve christened the bed, the dresser, and the floor.

Using his powers, Michael pulls the blanket down to cover them, curling into Alex’s body to warm him up. He’s still nervous and he thinks that Alex can probably feel it. It’s not like he’s being subtle, with the way he keeps pressing little kisses over Alex’s neck and shoulder, over his collarbone, as a way to burn off that energy.

“What is it?” Alex finally asks. 

Michael rests his chin on Alex’s shoulder, staring at him worriedly. “I didn’t want to force you into royal obligations on this trip,” he complains, feeling like he’s managed to bring Alex across the galaxy, only to force him into working. “I wanted to show you where I grew up and relax, but we’re going to visit four planets and have to read and then recite the talking points and wave and be the happy couple.”

“That last part should be easy,” Alex reminds him, stroking his fingers through Michael’s hair, untangling his curls now that they’ve cooled down a little. “We are that happy couple.”

“I know,” Michael grumbles. “It just feels wrong to put it on display like that, all for politics.”

“Michael,” Alex says patiently. “I can handle this.”

Michael jolts a little, worrying that the implication here is that he’s saying Alex can’t. His eyes are wide and panicked, because the last thing he wants for this trip to do is drive a wedge that didn’t exist between them. Alarmed, he starts to shake his head frantically, but Alex laughs fondly and squeezes Michael’s hands.

“Hey,” he says. “I know you’re not saying that I can’t, but I’m telling you that whatever we have to do, I will. I can. You and your mother have done so much for me and made me a part of your family. If I can do even a little to help the royal Antarian family, then I will.” He turns a little so he can brush a kiss to the corner of Michael’s lips. “If I get to do that by being your eager, happy fiancé, then I am extra ready for that challenge.”

Michael’s so damn glad for Alex and he tightens his hold on him, pulling him into the warmth of his body. “Remember you said that, okay?” And he knows he’s repeating himself, he knows he’s saying it again, but he desperately wants the disclaimer.

The last thing he wants is to go back to Earth with Alex deciding that this whole ‘engaged to an alien’ thing isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. He doubts Alex would ever actually abandon him so easily, but Michael wants to make sure he does everything in his power to prepare Alex for what’s to come.

It’s been ages since he’s done the royal circuit, but he remembers them from his childhood. He even remembers watching aunts and uncles on their engagement trips out there, which means that he has a small idea of what they’re in for.

Four planets, Michael tells himself as they’re falling asleep.

They’ve survived Alex’s shitty father, years apart, and the stress of a long-distance relationship. Four planets should be nothing, so long as they handle them one at a time, and as long as they do it together. Michael kisses Alex’s shoulder to settle himself, and he murmurs, “I love you,” to Alex as they’re falling asleep. 

Deep down, he knows it doesn’t matter what happens because they’re together and they love each other. This isn’t going to be like Michael’s coming-of-age tour when he was thirteen. This time, Alex will be at his side and they’re going to be celebrating their love. 

He can do this. _They_ can do this.

They only need to make it to the other side, heavens help them.

* * *

_Gardel_

The people of Gardel are not as happy to see them as Michael’s been led to believe when they arrive on the planet. Sure, the usual pomp is present. There are banners and red carpets, people with flowers lining the roped walk to greet them, but the actual ambassadors are _pissed_.

“We were told you were wed,” they sniff at him, looking him and Alex over with dismay. “Yet, I only see the rings of promise, not of bonding.”

The aliens look like they’re about to cry. Michael knows that some of the colonies are hard-up for entertainment of their own, but he really thought that he’d escape the whole royal gossip situation when he abdicated. Apparently not. When he turns to look at Alex, it’s clear that he also has no idea what to do about the whole thing.

“We’re…sorry?” Alex attempts, which is sweet of him to do. 

“It’s all right. We will take steps to remedy that.”

Michael wants to open his mouth and ask how, but he can see the bustle of activity going on behind them, which means that Michael knows exactly what’s going to happen. He smiles politely and excuses them, because he thinks Alex is going to need a warning.

Luckily, Alex is still seeming dazed by the fact that he’s on his third planet to notice the hubbub around them. “So, you know how we’re supposed to be doing this meet and greet tour?” Michael starts, sliding his palm up and down Alex’s arm, trying to keep him steady and calm for what he’s about to share.

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, and he sounds suspicious, which means Michael’s ‘bad news tone’ is probably getting used much too often.

“And you like parties, right?”

“Michael, what’s happening?”

Michael sees the archway being put up in the distance and honestly, if he weren’t occupied with trying to make sure that Alex isn’t about to pull a runaway groom on him, he’d be really impressed with their spur of the moment action. 

“I think we’re about to get married.”

They’ve talked a lot about what kind of wedding they want, which is a side-effect of the fact that they’ve basically been engaged for years, even before Michael had gone down on one knee to ask the question. They know they want it to be a simple and quiet affair where their family and friends are there to watch. At most, they want twenty people there. 

What they don’t want is a broadcasted ceremony, which the people of Gardel are in the middle of arranging. Unfortunately, it’s not like they can get back in the ship and fly back home. 

“If we don’t do this, how bad would that be?” Alex asks, a touch panicked when the ambassadors lay a golden wreath of flowers on his head. 

From Michael’s last briefing about the Gardellians, it’s been touch and go with Antar and he can hear his father’s voice in his mind praising diplomacy when one’s army is in a weakened status. They don’t have enough troops to come out here for a skirmish, so if they don’t suck it up, it probably won’t go over very well.

“The word ‘coup’ might come up,” Michael says evenly, which is why they can’t just bolt.

Alex lets out a little choked noise. “So, we’re about to get married,” he echoes Michael’s earlier comment. Michael turns in tandem with Alex in time to see them setting up the stands, the arches, and the ambassadors are beckoning them over frantically, telling them that their outfits are being laid out for them.

It’s a very good thing that Michael knows Alex loves him, because today might be extremely challenging otherwise.

“I mean,” Alex says, on the cusp of being dragged away to be forcibly changed, “we were planning to get married anyway, at least?”

Michael’s jacket is being pried off him by fussy attendants, because he’s not letting them pull him away from Alex just yet. “Hey,” he snaps. “We’re in public,” he hisses, when one of them goes for his zipper, “and my fiancé is standing _right there_.” He pries himself away from them and strides towards Alex to press a hand to his hip. “What if we think of this as a rehearsal?”

“So instead of a rehearsal dinner…”

“Rehearsal wedding,” Michael says. “Maybe it’s a good way to workshop the vows, see what we might want to change before the real thing.”

Alex resists the tugging of the Gardellians behind him, staring at Michael with a pleased grin. It’s a relief, because Michael knows that he’s not about to get in trouble for bringing him to a planet where the first thing (literally the first thing) on their minds is getting them hitched. “I’ll see you at the altar,” he says, and relents to turn into the attendants’ grabby, greedy hands. 

Michael turns to surrender to his own identical fate.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Let’s get this over with.”

What happens next is fairly standard for Michael. He’s been through this so many times with the assistants on Antar that it really doesn’t unnerve him very much as they strip him down, bathe him, and then perfume him with the latest trendy scent. They outfit him in a beautiful button-down and pair of pants, pairing it with a silky black robe that nearly hangs to the floor. As they dress him, they attend to his curls and add smears of makeup, which Michael stands still for. 

The trick is to zone out and go somewhere else.

Given the yelping he hears from the next door over, Alex hasn’t figured that out yet.

Michael can’t help grinning fondly when he hears Alex’s voice carrying, asking if they’re really sure they need to clean him _everywhere_.

“Your fiancé is reserved, is he not?” one of the noble women comments to Michael with concern.

“Earth has different standards,” Michael clarifies, because it’s not Alex’s fault that he’s making all kinds of best friends who will be intimate with the ins and outs of his body. He can’t help grinning fondly as he thinks about how he’s going to kiss it all better later. He turns and allows them to add a dust of golden shimmer to his hair, glancing himself in the mirror. He’s clad in black trousers and an immensely long duster-like suit jacket, lined with gold, adorning a maroon button-down and a slim waistcoat on top.

It’s definitely not any kind of fashion he’d pick for himself, but he doesn’t look so bad.

“Sir, you’re ready,” they advise. “The officiant is waiting for you at the altar. Your betrothed will meet you there.” 

Michael nods dutifully, feeling strange to be the old hand at this thing. Still, given that it’s far from the most embarrassing thing he’s ever gone through as one of Antar’s crown princes, he thinks it’s a walk in the park (the most embarrassing had been when he’d been younger and his parents were both still on Antar. It had involved a donkey-like creature, honey, and a video that is never getting shown to Alex).

He’s physically placed in a position at the romantic altar, then turned so he can watch the entrance. It’s not long before there’s movement and Alex is led out wearing a waistcoat over a crisp shirt, and a three-quarter length asymmetrical skirt that hangs over his knees and what looks like combat boots. 

They’re Alex’s boots, which means he’s somehow managed to convince them to let him wear them as part of the outfit. When Alex arrives at his side, Michael’s grinning like an idiot.

“What?” Alex asks, with a huffed laugh.

“You,” Michael replies, nodding to the boots. “Charming the new planet we’re on into letting them keep your punk fashion sense.”

“Anything for the groom,” is Alex’s wicked retort, “The sooner you learn the weight that has, the more you’re going to get out of using it.”

The officiant clears his throat, like he’s trying to somehow shame them for both whispering to one another. Michael feels no guilt at all as he turns to look at the man in front of them, the arch, and the general wedding ambiance. This is absolutely not what he’d intended and he knows he won’t be signing anything to make this official, but they’re here and it’s beautiful and it’s for them. 

There are worse gifts that they could be presented.

The ceremony is quick and doesn’t follow Earth standards. Michael, who knows only a little about Gardel, had no idea what their ceremonies were like, but he’s pleasantly surprised at them. 

“Now, Prince Rath, please take your hand and place it over Alex’s heart,” the officiant instructs. 

Michael does so, and the officiant’s fingertips begin to glow a soft yellow. Michael can see Alex about to make a joke, which he anticipates being ET related, so he throws him a warning look that gets him to bite down on it. The officiant rests his hand atop Michael’s, and it’s like a bolt goes through him as it bridges their minds and hearts.

He can hear Alex’s disappointment at not getting to make the joke, feel his nerves about the ceremony, experience his worry that somehow this will take away from their actual wedding, followed by shock.

“I can feel you,” he says out loud, eyes widening.

“Yes,” the officiant agrees. “Now, Prince Rath, please share your intent as Alex’s future husband.”

Michael feels himself beginning to smile a little wider than before, even if it’s a soft thing, tender with love and adoration. He doesn’t actually use words. He doesn’t need to, not as he closes his eyes and shows Alex with images exactly what he intends. He shows them the house he wants them to build together, he shows them dinners with family and friends, nights spent curled up around one another. He shows Alex the stars they’d passed on their journey here and how he wants to spend their lives looking up at them, and he lets all those emotions flood Alex with the warmth and the joy they effuse, hoping to surround Alex in that peace. 

When Alex opens his eyes, he mouths, ‘I love you too’ and shows Michael the future he intends them to have.

Music that always plays in their home, Rover under their feet, fighting to warm limbs in the winter, a nebulous _maybe_ future where there are children, but if there aren’t, a happy life nonetheless.

By the time Alex is done showing him that and more, Michael is sniffling, trying to hide it from their officiant even though he’s sure this must happen all the time. It’s not the wedding they’d planned and Michael will stubbornly refuse to acknowledge it as their actual ceremony, but it’s a pretty good practice run.

“And now,” the officiant says, “let us show you to our wedded couple suite.”

There’s also that. Though, he’s pretty sure that there’s no practice required when it comes to that aspect of their marriage. If anything, Michael and Alex have that down pat, but it’s rude to refuse a gift, which is why Michael happily accepts.

* * *

_Poldimeri_

Upon their arrival to Poldimeri, it’s raining flower petals.

Alex steps off the ship and stares up at the clouds, then to Michael, laughing as he spins around in them, petals collecting on his shoulders. Michael’s only been to this planet once when he was little, but he remembers his mother explaining their weather systems to him and how they could control what they wanted to fall from the sky. It looks like in honor of the visiting prince and his fiancé, they’ve elected to have it rain flowers.

They’re bright yellows and reds and pinks, carpeting the greeting area, and Michael is struck by how beautiful Alex looks as he spins slowly, the petals falling into his dark hair, contrasting the bright colors. He’s laughing, head tipped upwards, and when he catches Michael staring at him, he ducks his head down.

“I’ve never even imagined this could be possible,” Alex confesses, while Michael takes long strides towards him. 

Alex’s eyes widen in surprise when Michael kisses him as flowers tangle in his curls, but how the hell can Michael let him look so stupidly beautiful in his suit, surrounded by flowers, and _not_ kiss him? It’s like he can feel the mood in the air, charged with something that only adds to Michael’s need for Alex, but he pulls away when he remembers their business.

The delegation approaches, with Michael seeing them out of the corner of his eye. It feels like _torture_ to put space between himself and Alex, letting out a whining sound that makes Alex elbow him, turning it into a cough. 

“Prince Rath of Antar,” the ambassador greets him, and Michael grimaces for his _official_ name, though at least they’ve dropped ‘the second’ from the title, because being reminded of how much you live in your father’s shadow isn’t something he loves. “My name is Ellian, and I’ll be your liaison during your stay.”

“It’s Michael Guerin,” he reminds them politely, and with a hand at Alex’s back, he gently nudges him forward. “My fiancé, Alex Guerin.”

“We hope you like our gift, sirs,” they say, sweeping a hand towards the flower petals that are still nestled in Michael’s curls. “They’re soaked in our custom emotion blends.” Alex’s confusion must be palpable, because Ellian presses a hand to their heart, as if apologizing. “We bottle our emotions here and infuse them into objects, a perfumed gift,” they explain. “The flowers are tempered with romance.”

That explains why Michael feels like the world’s been put through a soft lens, but the unfortunate side effect is that the last thing he wants to do now is go through diplomatic relations.

“It’s a very thoughtful gift,” Michael says, feeling as deeply in love as ever. It takes relying on his training to get through it, especially when he looks to the side and catches the besotted way Alex is staring at him. 

Through some miracle, he manages to get through the meet and greet, the introductions, and even some planetary business while the locals give Alex the tour and take him out of Michael’s line of sight. Once they’re finished with official business, Michael is led through a beautiful little rooftop restaurant, as their sun sets and casts a pink glow on the horizon. It’s been explained to him that this dinner is a token of gratitude, which Michael goes to great lengths to thank them for.

“Your table, your highness,” the waiter says, gesturing to a private little alcove on the balcony where Alex is waiting.

Alex is clad in a beautiful soft blue sarong-type style dress. It hugs his waist tightly, bares a shoulder, and when Michael gets closer, he lets out a joyful laugh, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. He ducks in to press a kiss to Alex’s lips (looking so soft and pink and perfect), and cups his cheek to get a better look at him.

“Whose idea was the eyeliner?” Michael teases.

“Mine. After Gardel and seeing how good you looked with that highlighter on your face, I thought I could dip into it and no one would care,” Alex admits. “Private table, chef-prepared dinner,” he murmurs, swaying in Michael’s arms as they overlook the cascading waterfalls of Poldimeri, collecting in the lagoons below. “I could get used to this royal life.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Michael warns with a mumble, pressing a kiss to Alex’s neck. “One day, Max is going to tell them that I’m no longer a prince. You can ask Mom how they treat commoners, but it’s definitely not with bottles of emotional perfume and private dinner rooms.”

“I guess I’m going to have to enjoy it while I can.”

“What a hardship,” Michael deadpans, and holds out Alex’s chair for him to slide him into it. It’s _beautiful_ here and it’s a lot better than being suddenly forced into having a wedding ceremony. 

It’s way easier to sit, drink, and talk about the future, _without_ an audience.

“Did you ever see yourself doing this?” Alex asks during the second sumptuous course, swallowing back something silky and velvet, like a solid soup that Michael wants more of. 

Patting his mouth with the napkin, Michael’s brows raise to his forehead. “Sitting across from a handsome earthling, dining on some of the universe’s best cuisine? Nah,” he scoffs. “I actually thought I’d never get married,” he admits. It’s something he’s believed for a long time, but it’s the first time he’s saying it out loud. “Max would, because obviously he’s the next in line. The fact that it looks like it’ll be Liz is wild, by the way,” Michael points out. “I figured Isobel would marry for romance, at least once in a myriad of passionate marriages, but me…”

He catches himself staring at Alex over the table, watching how the candlelight flickers over his face. He’s so beautiful that Michael wants to melt, and he reaches over the table to take Alex’s hands in his.

“I thought I’d work myself to an early grave, if I’m honest. I’d be the scientific advisor they all wanted. Before you, I’d never kissed anyone, never even considered _being_ with anyone. You changed my life, Alex. So, no, I never saw myself doing this, because I never saw myself being in love with anyone enough that I’d get to bring them around the universe and show them off.”

Alex squeezes Michael’s hands in his a little tighter, breath sharply inhaled as he stares at him. 

“You’re really romantic when you try,” Alex teases, sliding his thumb over the back of Michael’s hand. His eyes are cast low in the light, and he stares up at him. “I never thought I’d meet anyone like you. I figured one day, I’d have to join the Air Force or the Army to follow in my Dad’s footsteps and suppress who I am. Instead, I’m on an alien planet, having dinner with my fiancé, and I never have to worry about my Dad interfering in my life again.” 

Michael shifts in his seat to lean over the table, careful of the glasses and plates. He can’t go another second without kissing Alex, he honestly can’t.

He loves the way Alex’s face lights up with a broad smile, but also the way he tugs on Michael’s shirt to bring him closer. “I love you,” he murmurs.

“I love you too,” Michael whispers back, and only settles back in his seat when the waiters come to switch out their courses. 

They manage to behave properly through the next few courses and even dessert, but by the time the fizzy vanilla-scented coffee-like drinks settle, they’ve officially been there too long. There are other forms of hospitality that Michael wants to indulge in and he doesn’t wait a single second as he grabs at Alex’s hands to yank him along to the bedroom.

Michael’s pretty privately pleased they don’t have anyone waiting on them in the bedroom, even if Ellian and the others had offered to _attend_ to them.

Their stay is subdued and easy and perfect, which makes Michael relieved that it hadn’t been a complete disaster like Gardel had been. 

As they’re leaving, Michael is stopped by Ellian. “Sir,” they say, and present a heart-shaped bottle to Michael that’s filled with a light-pinkish liquid. It looks like the bottles they’d seen during their tour of the marketplace, but he’s not sure which emotion this is meant to be. “For you, a parting gift for yourself and the lovely Alex.”

He should bristle at that, but instead he feels smugly proud that other people are noticing just how handsome and perfect his soon-to-be husband is. 

“We thank you for the gift,” Michael says, honoring them with a hand pressed over his heart. “What…is it?” That’s probably not in the playbook when it comes to things a royal should ask, but he's also learned his lesson about not asking for explanations when taking things on board their ship.

“We observed your love in the days that you were here and derived this scent from your pheromones around one another,” Ellian says, and when Michael takes a moment too long to process, they go on. “It’s your love, in a bottle, and how you feel. Anyone who wears this will experience what it’s like, you loving him, him loving you.”

Michael taps his fingers lightly over the bottle, suddenly feeling extremely smug as plans begin to coalesce in his mind. 

Isobel is absolutely getting a dose of this the next time she complains that she’s always left out when it comes to _actual_ love, but also when she airs her cynicism about what it is Michael and Alex feel for one another and whether it can really be _that_ good. 

“Use it wisely,” Ellian remarks wryly, as though they know what that smile on Michael’s face means.

“My love for Alex will only ever be used sparingly for the lucky others who get to indulge in it,” he assures, tucking it away carefully into his jacket. 

He’s realized that teasing Isobel with it just the once might be fun, but the idea of getting married and perfuming the air with their love is something that no other couple could ever hope to do, which means that this bottle is to be adored and treasured. When they eventually get married _properly_ and in the way they want, Michael knows this will be a key piece.

It's a representation of their love, after all, and it deserves to be put on the highest pedestal.

* * *

_Minutus_

This time, Michael swears he’s going to be ready for whatever they’re walking into. 

On the journey to the planet, he digs out all the reading materials and goes over it a few times to ensure that nothing on this next planet might cause an incident or upset Alex. Not that anything has upset Alex, but given that they’ve had a few surprises in the form of gifts, he doesn’t want that to change.

He’s in the middle of a new section of the briefing when he feels Alex’s arms sliding over his shoulders. “Michael,” he murmurs. “We’re sixteen hours away, it’s late, and our bed is very cold without you. Don’t make me dose you with the Poldimeri romance perfume.”

Michael groans as he watches Alex stripping off his shirt as he walks to the bedroom. “Fuck,” he mutters. “If we were together when I had to write my Antarian exams, I definitely would have failed,” he guarantees, but puts aside the reading material in order to follow Alex into the bedroom which is absolutely more exciting, but probably not so good when it comes to preparing himself for diplomacy meetings.

They arrive to Minutus and Michael barely has fifteen minutes to collect himself before he has to go and greet them. He’d overslept past the alarm and when he’d asked why no one woke him up, he'd learned that Alex had asked them to give him some rest. 

It’s Alex’s fault, therefore, that Michael’s curls are currently suffering from some of the worst sex hair he’s ever had in his life. He tries to tame it as they dress him in the long suit jacket, but it's to no avail.

“You look sexy,” Alex mumbles as they share one last kiss before the doors open to the delegation.

Michael gives a small whining sound of protest as he takes Alex’s hand in his. “Sexy isn’t exactly on the top of the list when it comes to diplomatic relations, you know.” He really never thought that Alex would be the one he’d be trying to get in line to behave, but here they are. Maybe it’s the mood of the tour, where everyone is exalting them for being young and in love. 

It's way too easy to fall into that trap and let it wash over you, so Michael gets it. Even now, with a single look Alex’s way to see him flushed and happy, Michael understands why it’s easy to forget what they’re here for and instead dive into all that romance.

Two more planets, he tells himself. They can do that.

“Our greetings from Antar,” Michael says as they step towards the delegation of elders that are waiting for them. It’s a very subdued scene at the end of a red carpet with no onlookers, no items on any tables, and three elders standing there. From the briefing materials, he vaguely remembers them to be Raitha, Symolon, and Laira – they’ve ruled over this planet in tandem together for decades, through _oneness_ according to the documents.

He and Alex bow properly and when they right, the elders stand before them. “We accept your greetings with great thanks,” they speak together, before Laira continues. “Thank you for coming to join us for our dinner. We hope that you will enjoy our cuisine and the planet, especially you, young Alex Manes of Earth.”

“I’m sure that I will,” Alex replies, with just the right amount of respect in his words. 

Good. This is going well, Michael thinks. This is going perfectly. 

“With your impending marriage, we wanted to provide you with a gift,” the elders of Minutus speak as one, crashing Michael’s hopes that they were going to get off this planet by attending a dinner in their honor and nothing else.

Michael opens his mouth to try and put off the gift until later, because after the last two planets, he wants to be cautious when he never saw anything in the briefing about gifts or rituals to give him an inkling of what’s about to happen (or maybe it was there and Alex distracted him from seeing it). 

Alex, unfortunately, isn’t exactly on the same page, which is why he steps right into the waiting hands of the elders. Sighing, Michael resigns himself to whatever gift is about to be bestowed on them. 

He’ll have a talk later with Alex about making sure he doesn’t do that again, because at some point, there’s going to be a gift that gets them into way too much trouble.

They each press their hands to Alex’s temples before doing the same to Michael. There’s a strange buzzing noise in his periphery, but not enough that Michael worries – especially seeing as it goes away after a few seconds. They murmur ancient words of praise and offerings, and then they’re done with their “gift” (whatever it might be).

The good news is that nothing seems to happen. 

Then, because Michael’s terrible at tempting fate, he learns at dinner that he’s spoken too soon. They’re in the middle of a spicy Minutian dish when he hears, clear as day in his head, Alex speaking to him. The only trouble is that Alex is eating his soup and his mouth can’t be moving, so how it is it that Michael hears: _Can you have an orgasm from soup? I might actually, god, I hope Michael doesn’t touch me while I eat, I’m already halfway there. Fuck, his hair looks good, maybe I should convince him to stop doing it after we fuck if it’s gonna look like that_.

Yeah. This is why you don’t accept gifts from anyone.

“Um….”

Their hosts beam as they look down the table, somehow _knowing_ what’s going on. “Do you like it?” Raitha asks, clearly hoping that he does from the tone of her voice. “It’s not permanent, but we thought that a newly engaged couple like yourselves would enjoy a psychic connection for a few days.”

 _Oh_ , Michael gets from Alex’s mind. _I was wondering why my fantasies were of bending myself over the dinner table._

Michael really wants to facepalm, but that would be rude. Instead, he has to smile very politely at the elders. “We thank you for your gift,” he chokes out the words, because he absolutely doesn’t thank them for the fact that Alex is clearly turned on and it’s a feedback loop in his own mind. “Would you be so polite as to guide us to our room? Our trip was very taxing,” he says, trying to evoke his very best diplomatic-Max voice. “I’d very much like to retire with my fiancé.”

Alex thinks _thank you_ very loudly at him, but Michael doesn’t linger. Who knows what the hell else they might try and gift to them?

It's not far to their quarters, but Alex is clearly impatient given how many fantasies he’s feeding Michael’s way, driving him absolutely fucking _crazy_ , and for a few moments, Michael actually deludes himself into thinking that this gift might end up being a good thing.

Those few moments don’t last that long. 

He’s in the middle of kissing Alex, pinning him up against the wall when a stray thought brushes his awareness. _Does he know that he scrunches his nose up like a cute little bunny when he kisses me like this?_ Michael lets out a frustrated sound in the back of his throat, easing back to give Alex an accusatory look.

“Sorry,” he says out loud. “Getting used to this.”

At least Alex thinks he looks adorable and not like some kind of weird ugly ogre when they’re making out. “Great, cool, can we go back to making out?” Michael demands heatedly, because he’d thought that sharing thoughts would lead to a lot more of that, because Alex had started it at dinner with images of Michael sucking him off beneath the tables.

“Please,” Alex agrees, tangling his fingers through Michael’s curls, brushing them with his thumb as he pulls him in, digging in as hard as he can to go right back to it.

Then, fuck, then: _Was there garlic in the dinner_?

“Alex!” Michael protests with a pained grunt, easing back to glare at him.

Alex wipes at his lower lip with the back of his hand, not giving an apology out loud, but clearly thinking it through the connection. Michael’s beginning to think that the people of Minutus didn’t think through this gift, or at least, they didn’t try it out with their partner before offering it to them.

“I don’t know if we should have sex tonight,” Michael says, “I’m worried what I’m gonna find out.” 

It serves Michael’s ego really well that Alex at least hesitates. There’s no instant agreement to make Michael think that something is wrong with his skills in the bedroom, but when Alex does answer, he sounds pretty keen to agree. “I mean, you’re thinking very loudly about me without my pants on right now,” Alex accuses, “but it probably is for the best if we don’t.”

He sounds like it’s like pulling teeth for him to admit to that, which Michael understands. They’re willfully denying sex with one another while they’re connected. They’re idiots. Then again, maybe this is proof why their marriage is going to work. 

There are way too many things you could learn about yourself in a moment of uninhibited lust. 

“Next time, can we just stay on a nice planet and relax?” Alex complains as Michael buttons himself up again, preparing to spend a night separate from his fiancé, seeing as the last thing he wants to do is learn terrible things about their sex just because he can hear his thoughts.

_You’re telling me. Next time, I’m going to kick Max’s ass and make him do this._

“You’d better,” Alex says out loud, giving Michael one last kiss to his cheek, looking forlorn and sad to see him go, even though they both know it’s for the best. “I’ll see you back on the ship when it’s time to go and this all wears off. It…is going to wear off, right?”

And that’s how Michael ends up spending the rest of the trip on Minutus _begging_ their trio of elders to take back their very generous gift. 

It’s a lucky thing they’re willing to listen, which is why he’s able to confidently stride back to the ship and greet Alex with a passionate kiss, not having to hear anything about what his breath tastes like, opinions about Michael’s clothes, or about his nose. 

Maybe there’s something to be said for a little mystery in a relationship.

* * *

_Velimir_

There’s something about this planet that Michael’s supposed to remember from the briefing.

He knows it. He really does. 

The trouble is that it’s the last planet on the list and Alex had started to sneak his hand into Michael’s lap, sliding into his pants, which meant that Michael had stopped paying attention to every single word they’d been saying. It means that although he’d smiled and nodded his way through the briefing, he actually doesn’t remember a thing about Velimir or their traditions. Michael blames it on the lingering effects of the Minutian mental bond (mainly that they haven’t had sex for days because of what they’d been afraid to learn).

He’s getting used to stepping onto a new planet and being welcomed by a delegation eager to fawn over the happy engaged couple. It’s getting annoying and old, but he’s used to it.

“Please,” the noble woman who’d come to greet them says, holding out a tray with two glasses of bubbly liquid on it. Her purple skin shimmers in the light of their obsidian sun, and her lids blink horizontally, but the champagne looks the same as it does on Earth. “A drink, to celebrate your coupling, and to ensure you are compatible.”

Alex looks at the glass warily, but Michael’s been at this long enough to know that you never refuse the offerings, even if they are going to lead you down a doomed road. He takes one of the flutes and holds the other out to Alex. Better to accept the gift and deal with the consequence now versus creating a war because you offended them.

“Happy coupling,” she says in parting, after Alex and Michael have both finished their drinks.

It tastes like champagne as much as it looked like it, so Michael writes it off as being completely normal and not strange at all.

Hours later, when he’s practically rubbing himself painfully against the sheets of his bed while they _prepare_ Alex for him, he starts to remember what he’d been told about Velimir, specifically about _not_ accepting their drinks.

“Out!” Michael snaps, because he might be dealing with alien roofies, but he’ll be damned if he lets them prepare his fiancé for him. 

They shuffle out and Michael uses his powers to slam the curtains closed, turning the lights on so he can see the sweaty sheen of Alex’s body in the light. The silk sheets aren’t enough to get him off, but he doesn’t want to force himself on Alex unless he knows he wants it too. Groaning, he forces himself to stop, even if he has to claw at the bedsheets to do that.

“Alex,” he moans, watching as Alex settles himself in Michael’s lap, wrapping his arms around him. “Alex, I think they drugged us.”

Given the way Alex is busy marking up Michael’s neck with kisses, he doesn’t care. There’s probably no stopping him, but Michael wants to have some kind of awareness of what they’re doing, which seems impossible given the way that his mind is clouding over. It’s getting to the point that he’s pretty sure the only thing he wants to do in the entire universe is fuck Alex.

Honestly, Michael thinks he’s losing the ability to do even basic arithmetic or think about facts. 

His brain supplies one thing only -- _fuck Alex, take him, have him, be claimed by him_.

It’s probably going overboard to say that he’d die if doesn’t fuck Alex.

The rest of the evening passes in a haze. Michael doesn’t remember what he does or what’s done to him. He barely remembers it, but when he wakes up, he’s achingly sore and he can’t sit on his ass, there are bite marks all over his neck and chest, and his hair refuses to be put back into place. The room looks ravished. There are broken paintings on the ground, a table has shattered, and the sheets on the bed are torn.

“Alex?” he gets out, but his voice is rough and sounds abused, and when his panic starts to build, he turns to find Alex buried under a pile of pillows. 

Alex shoves them aside and sits up blearily. His hair is sticking up a dozen different ways, he’s got fingernail scratches all over his back, and there are definitely shimmering handprints on him. Did Michael do that? He didn’t even realize he _could_ do that.

“What the hell happened last night?” Alex asks, rubbing his eyes.

“You don’t remember either?”

Alex shakes his head, alarmed by that fact. Michael slides his fingers over Alex’s body, feeling a strangled sort of panic because he doesn’t remember any of it, other than the fact that at some point, he and Alex must have connected. It takes him a moment to realize that the emotions he’s feeling aren’t entirely his.

“I’m killing Max when we get home,” Michael declares as he inches his way to his pants on the floor, groaning when he sees the fingerprints bruising his ass, which means that Alex must have gotten possessive in the middle of the night. “Next time, he can come drink the sex champagne,” he whines, and grabs his shirt, picking Alex’s clothes off the floor at the same time.

He perches gingerly on the side of his thigh, next to Alex, and hands back his clothes.

Tenderly, he eases a soft brush of a kiss to Alex’s temple. “You okay?” he asks quietly, even though he can already feel it. Alex is a touch wary, but he feels secure and safe knowing that it’s only Michael in the room. 

It goes unspoken, but deeply felt – Alex trusts Michael to take care of him, which means that it can’t be that bad.

“We’re not sticking around for breakfast and whatever drinks they intend to serve us then,” is all Alex says, looking like he’s seen better days.

“Fucking wholeheartedly agreed.”

When they get back to the ship, the guards are waiting for them, some of them hustling forward to get their luggage from them. Michael feels a little guilty about running away so quickly, but he _really_ doesn’t trust the people here not to try giving them another roofie for good measure. 

“Sorry sir,” one of his father’s guards apologizes, when he sees the tempestuous look on Michael’s face, glancing to the side to Alex before averting his eyes in a hurry. Michael knows why – Alex is a sight to see with his ripped shirt, his hair an ungodly mess (and Michael knows there’s still some of his come in there, because the people of Velimir don’t believe in showering off your partner’s attentions, what with the lack of a proper shower in the royal ensuite), and he’s walking a little crooked. 

Michael gets it. He’s not sure he’ll be sitting down for a while.

He grabs the guard and hauls him inside the ship. “What the fuck was that?”

“We should have checked the drinks,” the guard hurriedly says, “but from what we understand after some analysis, you two had no choice. If you didn’t allow yourselves to participate in the required rituals…” He gulps, clearly doing cartwheels to avoid the words ‘have rampant animal sex with each other’. “…we think that your system, specifically yours sir, would have shut down.”

Alex starts laughing, loudly, from where he’s hovering nearby.

“What is wrong with you?” Michael questions, when the guards leave them alone – probably because they think Alex is having a goddamn breakdown. 

“It’s nothing, it’s…” He’s lost into another peal of laughter. “Fuck,” he says, wiping away a tear. “Michael,” he says. “You brought me to a planet and put us in a fuck-or-die scenario.” When Michael stares at him blankly, Alex keeps going. “I can’t even count how many times it comes up in science fiction.” 

Michael shakes his head, still lost.

“Yeah, okay, we’re not getting married until we’ve done a couple Star Trek marathons,” Alex says decisively. 

“I’m going to nap for a year,” Michael grumbles as he marches inside towards stasis, where he can put himself in a blissful state of ignorance where no one is trying to ruin his relationship with Alex with flower petals, potions, drinks, or telepathy.

He knows these planets mean well, but fuck, he forgot how awful diplomacy could be when they’re _well-meaning_.

Give him a war any day.

* * *

_Antar_  
Michael should have known better than to imagine that this intergalactic expedition would be a quiet affair. After four planets of unexpected gifts and a few near-disasters, he wonders how he could have ever imagined that bringing Alex back to his home world was a good idea.

“Sir, we’re here,” says one of his Dad’s guards. “We’ve also received a message that Prince Zan would like an audience with you upon your landing.”

Michael bristles visibly, to Alex’s amusement. Alex sets his cup to the side and settles in on Michael’s thigh, even though they’re definitely about to get the big safety speech about being in your own seat and buckled in. “What?” Alex prods lightly. “You’re upset. How come?”

“I abdicated and everyone still treats it like nothing’s changed,” he complains. “We went on a diplomatic tour of local planets that we once colonized because they refused to publish the fact that I’m not a prince of Antar anymore. And, look, I like that I got to share this stuff with you, maybe not so much when they spike our drinks and want us to fuck, but it’s a lot.” 

The fear that he’s been feeling is bubbling up.

“It’s not too much, is it?” he asks Alex warily, because he doesn’t want this to be the thing that sends him running. “I wanted to bring you back to Antar to show you where I grew up, but it’s been _too much_ like when I grew up. It’s people falling over themselves to treat me like something I’m not.”

And here’s the worst of it, bubbling out.

“I don’t want you to leave me because you realized that I’m too much.”

Alex doesn’t say anything for a moment, but then he rests his chin on top of Michael’s curls. “I mean, you are a lot,” he hums, but he doesn’t sound upset. “You’re smarter than anyone else, you’re funnier than anyone else, and you love much louder than anyone else I’ve ever met.” Alex gently tips Michael’s chin up. “Michael, I love you because you are too much. Your royal background, your eccentric family, and your mind-boggling genius and all. I don’t want a boring accountant for a husband.”

He leans in to brush a kiss to Michael’s lips, which has the benefit of washing away most of those doubts and fears.

“I want you,” Alex mumbles into the kiss, which deals with the rest. Michael hadn’t realized just how much he’d been worried about it until Alex is kissing every one of the worries away. 

Unfortunately, because their luck is still crap, they don’t get a chance to do anything more than start the beginnings of an amazing kissing session. 

The team comes around and makes an unhappy noise when they discover Alex isn’t in his seat, so Michael reluctantly lets him climb out of his lap to buckle up for re-entry to Antar. If nothing else, he feels comfortable knowing that even if the people of Antar have something up their sleeves, this is the one planet that Michael doesn’t have to worry about being polite on.

He can tell them to shove it, and sure, he’ll face consequences, but the fact that he _can_ is the point. He's also not about to run his mouth over this when Alex could get hurt if he doesn’t do as they say, but it’s the _principle_ of the matter. 

The landing is easy and Michael glances out the window to make sure that no one’s waiting for them, per his request. He lets out a sigh of relief to see a blissfully empty landing area, and when he turns to grin at Alex, he can see it reflected back at him – even if Alex is clearly exhausted. 

“Bed?”

“Bed,” Alex agrees, wistfully adding, “even if I wish it was ours and Rover was there.”

So does Michael, and while he hasn’t thought of Antar as home for a while, it’s still a stark reminder that he’s never going to live on this planet and he’s only ever going to be a visitor in the same way as he’d been as a diplomat on those other planets. Their guards escort them back to Michael’s room, where there are no gifts waiting, no dignitaries, and no expectations.

Michael only manages to get one shoe off before he collapses on the bed, feeling Alex crawl on top of him in a similar state. The roughness of Alex’s denim jacket brushes against him, and Michael turns into it, tugging on the jacket with both hands to pull him in a little tighter. “I love you so much,” he murmurs. “I don’t think I said that enough on our trip. Not everyone would’ve put up with this the way you did.”

Michael doesn’t open his eyes, so when Alex presses kisses to his forehead and jaw, they’re all tiny and perfect surprises, like a game of where Alex might kiss him next.

“I love you too, Michael,” Alex promises. “And it was easy to do this. You’re going to give up the stars to come join me on Earth. This was the least I could do.” He slides his fingers through Michael’s curls and gently holds on as he settles in with him, draping his leg over Michael’s hips as Michael reaches for the blankets.

They’re cozily tucked in, still half-dressed, but they’re together and finally have some privacy. It’s easy to fall asleep like this, and Michael finds himself dreaming of their future, where they’ll get to sleep like this every single day. 

The next morning, Michael wakes to find Alex snoring peacefully in his arms. The early hour isn’t a surprise, because Michael’s never needed that much sleep and now is no exception. They got in late last night, which means that Antar is already bustling about with activity and noise, but Michael doesn’t want to rush Alex out of bed just yet. He slides his fingers through Alex’s hair gently and brushes it back with a fond smile, kissing his forehead. 

“…ichael?” Alex mumbles sleepily.

“Stay in bed,” he whispers. “I’m going to go talk to Max and start packing our bags so we can get going _home_.” 

Alex stretches out and smiles sleepily, not having opened his eyes yet. Michael doesn’t go right away, because he’s still in awe about how handsome and perfect his fiancé is (technically his husband, but he doesn’t intend to acknowledge that ceremony). Once he’s pressed another few kisses to Alex’s forehead, he finally goes, only after Alex laughs sleepily and pushes him away.

“Go,” he insists. “I wanna go home,” he says, dragging the covers up to wrap him in their warmth in Michael’s absence. “Go debrief.”

Michael knows he has to, but it’s still hell pulling away from Alex to do it. He grabs one of Alex’s sweaters to pull it on, shoving his feet into a pair of slippers to make the trip to the throne room, where he knows Max is waiting for the report. 

When he gets there, he’s both surprised and not surprised at all to find Liz there with Max, sharing breakfast and going over letters. She lights up when she sees Michael, pushing to her feet and bounding over to wrap him in a fierce embrace, unwilling to let him go until Michael gives up and melts into it.

“Max has got you doing paperwork already?” he teases with a smirk.

“He’s letting me review the letters from the guilds,” she shares, eyes bright with a passion that Michael hasn’t seen in years – at least, not since high school when she’d routinely try and outscore him on tests, no matter how much of a failing task that was. “This place is fascinating, I don’t know why you left.”

Michael smiles politely and doesn’t argue. He has his reasons, but for a human traveling the galaxy for the first time, he knows why she wouldn’t be able to see it that way.

“How was the trip?” Max asks, opening up a can of worms without even realizing he’s doing it.

Michael grimaces and thinks about how political he wants to be. There are no other advisors in the room, which means that the worst that’ll happen is that Max and Liz hear him speak his mind. For Liz, it’s a lot more common of a thing, but for Max, it’s been a while since he got the full Michael special.

“Never fucking send me out there again,” he warns.

“That bad?” Liz teases.

“Liz, I am telling you. If ever Max tries to convince you to go on a universal tour of the planets that we used to be colonial rulers of, you run. You get in a spaceship and you fucking get out of there. I have been drugged with sex drugs and mind-reading hand-whammies and they’ve bottled my emotions and made me go through a wedding! I just wanna get married to Alex, Max!” he protests. “I’m tired of the bells and whistles and people calling me a prince. I know that’s your thing, I know you like that, and Liz is all aboard, but it’s not mine. It’s never gonna be mine.”

He takes in a deep breath, like he’s revving up for more, but before he can, Liz intervenes.

“He’s sorry.”

“Liz!” Max protests, flushed and embarrassed.

“He is,” Liz says, a little more emphatically. “Max, you grew up in this. I know you think that this is normal, but it’s not. Michael abdicated for a reason and a lot of it might have been Alex, but he was happy in Roswell writing papers and being a normal kid.” Michael suddenly wishes that he’d brought her here a lot earlier, because it’s really nice to have someone else in your corner like this. “We’re sorry, Michael.”

Michael gives Max an approving look. “I like Liz doing the official business,” he praises. 

“Yeah,” Max admits, his cheeks flushed. “I do too.”

“So how long before you two head out?” Liz switches the topic. 

Michael thinks back to Alex lying in bed, warm and sleepy. He thinks about the actual wedding that’s waiting for them back on Earth, and then he thinks about all the political and royal duties he’ll get suckered into with every additional moment he stays here. “Not to show up and bolt, but I think we’re going to take a few days for Alex to tour Antar properly, then we’re out of here.” 

“Michael, what about…”

Max doesn’t get any further than that because Liz calmly reaches over and presses her palm over Max’s mouth so that the next words he speaks are muffled and completely incomprehensible. “That sounds like a great plan,” she says sunnily, and only removes her hand when Max looks like he’s done talking. “You’d better make sure you tell us if the wedding plans change. I’m not missing that, even if I have to go through the terrible post-stasis mouth dryness.”

Michael wouldn’t dream of having the wedding without her and says as much. “Once we get back to Earth, a month after the landing date. Never mind Alex,” he jokes. “Maria would kill me if I changed our plans.”

“The two of them can be lethal when their forces combine,” Liz agrees. “Go,” she encourages. “I know you’d rather be with Alex instead of here.”

“Nah, I wanna get this done with,” Michael admits and settles in with Max.

Going over the detailed notes about his trip and what he’d seen takes a few hours, but he still has a lot of residual training in him that he understands why it’s so important for him to have learned this. He and Max discuss potential political and social moves, with Liz piping up a few times with suggestions. While not all the planets are perfect trading partners, Michael thinks that if nothing else, Poldimeri could make a killing selling their bottled emotions at the market.

By the time he gets to the last planet, it’s mid-morning and Michael is eager to get out of there.

“Max has everything he needs from you,” Liz says, gesturing for other diplomats to come in now that the hour is getting more decent. “He’ll call if he needs anything else.” She’s quickly stumbling to her feet to wrap Michael in a tight hug. “Give one of these to Alex.”

“Oh,” he says with a filthy smirk. “I will.”

He deserves the smack Liz gives him, along with the roll of her eyes, but he heads off to go back to Alex, knowing that in a matter of days, they’ll finally be going home to the life they love back on Earth. This might be Max’s place, where he feels most comfortable, but it’s never going to be Michael’s and that’s okay.

He leaves the throne room that day with one clear thought in his mind: _Damn, but Liz is going to be a good queen of Antar when Max gets his shit together_.

So long as Max has her at his side, Antar doesn’t need Michael. It has everything they need in those two and he couldn’t be prouder.

* * *

_\+ Earth_

They land back on Earth in the late evening, using the sunset to cover their landing. 

There’s no delegation. No one is waiting for them. In fact, it’s a sleepy Roswell evening and there isn’t a sound to be heard over the crickets. Michael feels like he could cry from relief after the whirlwind tour. They’d landed out in the middle of the desert where they’d parked Michael’s car along with some equipment in case they needed to jumpstart. 

Michael hadn’t considered the fact that he’d be exhausted after the trip, but he somehow makes it through the drive back to their house with a single stop at Maria’s to pick up their dog. 

She takes one look at them, kisses their cheeks, and sends Rover out. “I’ll ask about it in the morning,” she promises. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it. I bet you have all sorts of ridiculous stories to tell.” 

Michael goes a little paler as he thinks about the _stories_ that Alex will inevitably tell Maria, which means that she’s going to have blackmail material on them for the rest of their lives. Clearly, he’ll need to send Maria off on her own intergalactic trip so they can somehow even that up, or he fears that he’ll never live it down.

When they get back to their house, all the exhaustion from the last few months catches up to him swiftly. Michael can’t stop yawning and Alex doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s going to do anything. He turns the water back on, puts some in a bowl for Rover, and then heads straight for the bedroom. 

“Bed,” Alex insists roughly over his shoulder. 

Michael’s still crouched over with Rover, giving the dog the loads of affection that he’s missed giving the last year. Maria’s taken good care of him; possibly too much care, because it looks like she’s slipped him a few more treats than he’s used to. He doesn’t need much more convincing than that, though, and he follows after Alex. He’s so tired that he’s dropping clothes along the way, a very non-Alex thing to do, but Michael uses his powers to pick them up, not folding them, but at least shoving them all in a pile in the bedroom. 

“I take everything back that I ever thought about the royal family,” Alex protests as he hits their bed, facedown, and mumbles the words into the pillow. “They work really fucking hard waving and kissing cheeks.”

He laughs as he gives Alex a fond look, crawling up onto the bed to wrap himself around his back. He’s exhausted, too, but he’s made the trip a few times. This time, he’d been adamant that they go into stasis early, so it’s not that the trip itself had been exhausting, but Michael’s not about to argue that the grand tour hadn’t been.

“Hey Alex,” Michael whispers.

He gets a loving grunt in return from his darling fiancé who’s clearly annoyed that Michael hasn’t gone to bed yet.

“It’s only a month until I get to marry you, for real.”

“Better not be any telepathic sex things at our actual wedding,” Alex grumpily mutters and turns so he can wrap his arms around Michael and haul him in. Michael laughs and presses kisses to Alex’s shoulder, holding him tightly the way he needs to in order to fall asleep.

It's a clingy situation, but one that neither of them clearly mind.

When he wakes up the next morning, he’s still tangled in Alex’s arms and he finally feels like he’s at home in a way that he hadn’t on Antar. It should be strange, considering that had been his home for so long, but all that changed the day he walked into Roswell High and saw Alex Manes.

His life isn’t what it was, and that’s for the better.

The next month is packed to the gills with planning. His mother frowns every time Michael insists on keeping the wedding date the same, and she sends Maria after him to try and persuade him with sense, but he’s not having it.

“It’s happening to the original plans,” Michael says calmly. “We have out-of-galaxy guests. I’m not delaying it a single second.”

“Okay,” says his mother, as she and Maria exchange Looks. “It’s your wedding.”

There’s a wry hint of ‘and your funeral’ lingering around her tone, but Michael has finished projects for Antar on much smaller timelines. What kind of work can a small wedding be in comparison?

His parents’ house becomes the hub of planning, and it admittedly does get chaotic. Alex spends most of his time there with Rover at his side, while Michael drops in daily to check in about the latest items on their to-do list (and Rath takes every opportunity to try to get details about the planets Michael had visited). He’s been measured, he’s sampled every cake there possibly could be, and he’s arranged for the honeymoon room at a spa nearby. Their guests begin to arrive, filling up the rooms in Roswell for the second time in as many years.

He’s _ready_ to marry Alex, but that’s the easy part -- he’s been ready for years. 

The ceremony is really more of a checkbox than anything, but right now, Michael wants to barrel towards it and check the box as vehemently as possible. 

Weeks dwindle to days and then, much to Michael’s delight, days turns to hours. Alex heads off to Mara and Rath’s place so he can spend the night apart from Michael. It’s a stupid tradition, but one that Alex and Maria both insisted on, as if suddenly Michael is going to think Alex is more handsome because he’s been separated from him for a matter of hours.

There’s no way, seeing as he already shines brighter than the most incredible stars in every galaxy Michael’s seen. The only thing it does is result in a sleepless night for Michael, who’s stupidly eager for the next day. 

He wakes in bed alone, but Michael turns to hide his smile in the pillow, because from this day forward, he’s never going to be alone again. Within moments, Isobel and Mara arrive to suit him up for the day on their precisely timed schedule, and despite Michael’s yawns, he lets them fuss over him and get him in the impeccably measured suit.

He’s sure there’s chatter going on around him. He’s even sure he’s responded to some of it, but it all passes in a complete blur.

(“Michael, did you eat?”

“Do you want me to tie your tie for you?”

“Did you make sure the flowers aren’t wilting? Are they in the fridge?”

“Remember to greet your uncle at the reception, he came a long way for you…”)

He’s only pulled out of his zoning out moment by his mother’s hand over his heart, her voice in his ear. “Sweetheart, are you there?”

Michael blinks back to attention, noticing that Isobel’s left the room. It’s only the two of them. He suddenly feels like he’s sixteen all over again and that he’s landed on Earth for the first time. He’s not sure why he’s nervous, because he wants to marry Alex more than he’s wanted to do anything in his life, and he knows that his Mom loves Alex like a second son.

Here he is, though, a little boy eager for his mother’s approval.

“You look extremely handsome,” Mara praises as she fiddles with his boutonniere, attaching it to the pinhole of his suit jacket. “Alex is going to be so pleased to see you.”

He stares down at her, heart pounding in his chest. He’s getting _married_ today, and he can’t wait. “I don’t know that I ever thanked you,” he admits, full of affection and love and wanting to share it before it bursts out of his chest. 

“For what, sweetheart?”

Michael lets out a ragged laugh, because that’s the question, right? “I mean, take your pick. Letting me come here for three years, encouraging me to have hobbies and a life, letting Alex stay with us, welcoming him into the family, giving Dad a shot…” He feels like he could keep going, but maybe it’s simple. “Thank you for buying me a guitar,” he says, focusing on that one thing. “Because if you hadn’t encouraged that and my love for music, then Alex never would’ve taught me how to play. He never would’ve invited me for lunch. We never would have made it here.”

Mara leans in to kiss his cheek. “I don’t think that’s true at all,” she says, “because I think you two would have found one another regardless, but I’ll happily take the gratitude.” She drifts back and squeezes his hands. “Now, come on. Are you ready?”

He nods, never _more_ ready for anything in his life. 

“Then, come on. Let’s get you to Alex.”

After everything they’ve been through, this little wedding should look paltry and pathetic. It should be sad in the face of the grandeur that planets have given to them, but it’s the same wedding arch that his parents recommitted under, and Maria is there, Michael’s parents are there, and Liz and Max had flown back with Isobel to be there for this momentous occasion. 

It's not epic, because it doesn’t need to be. Their love is epic enough that the wedding can be as simple as it is. 

They don’t have weather that pours down flower petals, telepathic bonding, and definitely no sex alcohol (though Michael could make a case that tequila is a pretty close substitute in a pinch), but they have string lights tied up around an arch made of white roses and desert greenery and everyone they love surrounding them.

At the front of the arch, there’s Alex. He’s wearing a beautiful suit that isn’t powder blue (thank god Maria talked him out of that one), but it’s a stunning shade of burgundy that still makes him stand out. Mara presses a kiss to his cheek to give him away, and then Michael takes two steps towards Alex, ignoring everyone else for a moment.

“We made it,” Michael says with a boyish, nervous laugh, curls falling over his forehead as he ducks his head down. When he looks up, Alex is laughing too, holding onto Michael’s elbow as he brings him in for a kiss.

“Oh, come on!” Isobel protests loudly. “That’s supposed to happen at the end.”

“Hey! My wedding,” Michael snaps back at her, but he grins as he leans in and gives Alex a very polite kiss on the cheek, which earns relieved sighs from all around them. Once he and Alex have whispered back and forth about how excited they are, how good the other looks, that’s when Michael turns to Rath. “Okay,” he says, grinning excitedly. “Let’s do this.”

“Let’s,” Rath agrees, and gets into the ceremony. 

They’d discussed it for a long time, and both Alex and Michael had agreed that they didn’t need personalized vows in public. They’d written them to one another, and they’re waiting in envelopes back at the house to be shared in private. The promises they need to make to one another in public is the simple oath that they’re about to take.

The rest is something for them and them alone. 

“Do you,” Rath begins, “Michael Guerin, son of Rath and Mara, take Alex to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“You’d better, he’s the best thing you’ve ever done,” Rath quips, earning a laugh from the crowd.

Michael shoots his father a glower, seeing as he’s supposed to be on _his_ side. He can see his mother rolling her eyes nearby, but she’s smiling dopily. Michael has to wonder if he’s like that when Alex is being a sassy and sarcastic little shit, but then, you fall in love with all aspects of a person, so he thinks that yeah, maybe he does.

“And do you, Alex Guerin, son of Rath and Mara,” he continues with pride and conviction, “take Michael to be your lawfully wedding husband.” 

Michael beams at Alex, so happy that they’d been able to accept him like that. Alex is tearing up, the lights reflecting the shininess of his eyes, and Michael thinks viciously how happy he is that they’d managed to steal Alex away from his awful father. 

“I do,” Alex promises, staring at Michael. The entire universe compresses in that moment and Michael’s breath catches in his throat. He’s never felt more loved, never felt more accepted, and never felt more like he’s at _home_ than he does in this moment. 

“I’d give you permission to kiss one another, but I know neither of you needs that. So, what I will say is that I am happy to pronounce you wedded,” Rath announces, his face filled with delight, “and please remember that you have wedding guests. Don’t let it go on too long, we’ll feel left out.”

Michael turns to Alex from his brief glance at his father (he’s not sure if he’s mad at Rath for the comment or amused by its truth) and stares at Alex. It’s not going to be their first or last kiss, but somehow this one feels momentous, as if it’ll stand out amongst all the other kisses – like their very first or the way Alex had kissed him after their first time.

He reaches for Alex’s hand, tangling their fingers together, and drifts in to kiss him soft and sweet. There’s no need for him to possess this man, because Alex doesn’t _belong_ to him. He’s chosen to be with him, and that active act of choice means so much more to Michael. He slides his fingers up to cup Alex’s cheek, knowing that his fingers are trembling. 

Alex reaches up to squeeze Michael’s hand, like he’s grounding him with a promise that it’s okay. It’s all going to be perfect.

When Michael finally relents and drifts back, all he sees is a vision. Alex, beautiful as ever, in the twinkling lights of the arch.

“Alex,” Michael breathes out, like he’s seeing him for the first time. 

And he is, only it’s as his husband.

And Alex is _radiant_ as he beams and laughs, nodding like he understands. “Michael,” he echoes. “Wanna go celebrate with everyone we love around us?”

“Always,” he says, and gives his father a nod to send everyone to the tables set up nearby.

There’s an extremely loud round of applause and then the sound of shuffling, chairs scraping and people moving to fill the reception area. Michael nudges Alex along, laughing like he’s that sixteen-year-old kid again who’s just met someone absolutely incredible and intends to keep him. 

That feeling lasts all the way through dinner. 

Michael swears he eats, but he doesn’t remember it, because he’s so busy staring at Alex. The way he laughs and talks, the way he uses his hands to gesture and make a point when he’s talking across the big round table to Maria, and even the way he keeps looking back to Michael, as if to check in on him.

He loves this man more than he thought he could ever love anyone, and he’s so glad to be proven wrong about what his future is supposed to look like. Once the desserts have been carried away, Michael waits for the music to start, grinning when the live band hits the first few notes of a song he’s been planning for months. 

He reaches out to take Alex’s hands into his own, raising his brows wordlessly to invite him to get up and slide into Michael’s arms.

“Michael,” he whispers, eyes blurry with tears, reflected with twinkling lights. “Is this…?”

“It is,” Michael promises, because he’d made sure their first dance would be to the same song that they’d danced to at prom together. That night, they’d taken their first steps on a journey towards a lifetime with one another and it’s the one that’s led them here. He pulls Alex in as the refrain to _I’ll Stand By You_ begins. 

Everyone’s eyes are on them again, but Michael is okay with it.

Tonight, they’re completely different people than they used to be. Let people stare at them if that’s what they want. They’d invited them here to be a part of Alex and Michael’s journey into becoming something more together, and it’s time to give them a show.

“Are you ready?”

“For what?” Alex asks, resting his cheek on Michael’s shoulder. 

“For the rest of our lives,” he says, excited to think about all the incredible things they’ll do, and even all the mundane ones that will feel incredible because they’re doing them together. “It’s you and me, on planet Earth, going about our everyday lives. No royalty, no princely tours, no special treatment.”

Alex drifts back to give Michael a fond look. “You’re wrong.”

He’s not sure how, but he raises his brows to encourage Alex to tell him exactly why.

“I get to be your husband. That sounds pretty damn special to me,” Alex says, and Michael melts for the fiftieth time that day, cupping Alex’s cheeks as he hauls him in and kisses him as hard as he can, because when your new husband is being that sweet, it deserves a reward. 

“You’re right,” Michael agrees, because how could he be stupid and not see that. “You and me, on planet Earth, in our everyday _incredible_ lives, because it’s just that. You and me. Together.”

Now that’s a promise he’s ready and willing to keep.

And it’s one that he keeps in his mind every morning from then on.

From tomorrow until the rest of their lives ends, a promise he’s happy to make as the music keeps playing, and they keep on dancing.

**Author's Note:**

> There's one more fic planned for this series, because Mara and Rath need grandchildren sometime, don't they? No promises on when that will be written, but the idea's already there. It just takes the writing.


End file.
